In July 2016, the MILLS & BOON® AMERICAN ROMANCE® series will become the MILLS & BOON® WESTERN ROMANCE series. Same great stories, new name!

A COWBOY’S FAITH

Rancher Garrett Marshall’s life revolves around the Circle M, his work as a minister and his camp for at-risk kids. Until Dr. Rachel Vale comes to town. There’s an instant and powerful attraction between Garrett and the beautiful doctor…one he’s convinced could lead to something wonderful.

Rachel can’t fall for the cowboy minister, no matter how kind and ruggedly handsome he may be. His whole life is rooted in faith, and her world is guided by facts. One fact she can’t deny—she’s falling for Garrett anyway. Will Rachel keep her distance, or will she finally let her heart lead her home?

“For what it’s worth, I think you’re pretty special, Rachel.”

He could see her defenses spring up. “You shouldn’t say that.”

“Of course I should. It’s true.”

“We agreed to keep things professional.”

“I’m really starting to hate that word.” He tried to rein in his frustration. “Ignoring what’s between us won’t make it disappear.”

Her blue gaze turned fierce. “Yes, it will.”

Around them, the house was still and quiet. Reaching out, he took Rachel’s hands in his. “So you’re just going to pretend you don’t feel anything when my fingers touch yours.” He linked their fingers and pressed their palms together.

“That’s right.” But she swallowed hard.

“And it wouldn’t make any difference if I stroked your hair.” He let go of her left hand and skimmed his fingers lightly over the smooth strands above her ear.

“No.” Her fingers twitched in his grasp.

“So a simple kiss wouldn’t matter at all.”

She drew a deep breath. “Of course not.”

“Okay, then.” He leaned forward and set his lips against hers…

Dear Reader,

While my husband served in the Navy, we lived in six different cities, and we moved to yet another location when he retired. Each move posed challenges—learning where to shop and how to get to school, finding piano teachers and the best place for pizza. Most important, we would be seeking new friends and discovering how our family could fit into the local community. You never really feel at home until you’ve established your special crowd, your “tribe.”

The Marshall brothers have lived in Bisons Creek, Wyoming, all their lives. So when Dr. Rachel Vale comes to town to set up a medical clinic, Garrett Marshall makes it his mission to help her feel comfortable in her new setting. Local opinion holds that the doctor and the minister are a perfect match, and Garrett is inclined to agree. But Rachel isn’t so easily persuaded, and past experience has left her wary of romantic complications. As a medical emergency at the Circle M Ranch brings them together, Garrett must find a way to convince this cautious woman that he can be trusted—with the safety of her patients and with her heart.

Mail from readers is always a delight. Feel free to contact me at my website, lynnettekentbooks.com, or at PO Box 204, Vass, North Carolina 28394.

Lynnette Kent

A Marriage in Wyoming
Lynnette Kent

www.millsandboon.co.uk

A child of the North Carolina mountains, LYNNETTE KENT seems destined to find herself living anywhere but the mountains. Her family moved to Florida when she was nine, inspiring her with a lifelong love of the ocean and a long day spent at the beach. After marrying a graduate of the US Naval Academy, she moved with him to Tennessee while he attended medical school and from there to Virginia, California and Washington, DC.

Now settled in southeastern North Carolina, Lynnette tries to remember that mountain flowers don’t grow well in the heat of a Sandhills summer, that fall isn’t an abrupt change of season but a gentle, lingering evolution, and that winter without snow can be…well, endured. With her two daughters married and on their own, she practices her nurturing skills with the six horses and five dogs on her farm. When she’s not immersed in writing a book, or reading one, she mows grass, moves hay and fights a never-ending battle with weeds.

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Contents

Cover

Back Cover Text

Introduction

Dear Reader

Title Page

About the Author

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Extract

Copyright

Chapter One

Funny how a day could change so quickly.

One moment Garrett Marshall was enjoying a beautiful Monday morning in July. He was putting the finishing touch on the converted building that would now house the new medical clinic for the little town of Bisons Creek—a hand-carved and painted sign created by his artist brother, Dylan, announcing the medical practice of Dr. Rachel Vale. Garrett measured the sign and the space, calculating exactly where the hangers should go. Then he took his hammer and the first nail, cocked his wrist...

And slammed the face of the hammer directly onto his thumb.

“Damnation!” The hammer clanked to the floor of the porch as Garrett swore. Sucking on the injured finger, he glanced around to see if anybody had heard him. According to his congregation, ministers didn’t use such words, except in their sermons about the rewards of sin. Garrett didn’t want to shatter their illusions if he could help it.

Luckily, no one had been within earshot, but as he bent to pick up the hammer, a dusty green SUV pulled up to the curb in front of the clinic and stopped. The driver came around the hood of the vehicle to survey the building. “There’s no sign,” she called. “How will people find the place?”

“I’m working on it,” Garrett called back. “Give me two minutes.” Aware that he was being watched, he picked up the hammer he’d dropped and blew out a breath. “Focus...”

He didn’t hit his thumb again, though it took a few extra taps to get the first hanger firmly seated. The second went in with a little more finesse. Then he picked up the sign and hung it on the wall. “There you go.”

When he turned, he found the woman standing on the porch with him—and the close-up view took his breath away. Bright blue eyes and rosy lips, long hair in a shade of red he labeled russet, creamy skin and a curvy figure accentuated by a T-shirt and shorts...it all added up to perfection, as far as Garrett was concerned.

“It’s a nice sign,” she said, “but I’m not sure it will be visible from the street.”

She was also, he gathered, rather picky. “There will be a bigger, freestanding sign in the yard for the Bisons Creek Medical Clinic. It’s not quite finished.”

“That sounds great.” Smiling, she extended a hand. “I’m Rachel Vale.”

“Garrett Marshall.” Taking off his hat, he held her right hand in his and squeezed, but then couldn’t prevent a wince.

Her warm smile became a worried frown. “What’s wrong?”

“I hammered my thumb just before you arrived. Don’t worry—”

“Your right thumb?” She brought his hand closer to her face. “Are you left-handed?”

“I am, as a matter of fact.” He was also flushing in embarrassment at this point.

Dr. Vale hadn’t noticed, her attention being concentrated on his thumb. Her fingers were cool and gentle on his skin, and very clean. As she bent her head, he caught the crisp herbal scent of her shampoo. Unobtrusively, he drew in a deeper breath. Very nice.

“Has the pain diminished since it happened?”

“Yes, definitely diminished. I’m fine, really. Just feeling stupid.” Nothing like looking clumsy in front of a gorgeous professional woman. He might be a pastor, but he had his pride.

“It’ll be bruised.” She released his hand. “Ice would be a good idea. I’d offer some, but I have no idea if I even have any ice.”

“I’m okay,” Garrett assured her. Her touch seemed to linger on his skin. “Shall I let you inside? Or do you have the keys?”

“The mayor sent me a set,” she said, pulling a key ring out of her back pocket. “Let’s see how this works.” With a couple of quick twists of her wrist, the door swung open. “Ta-da! My own clinic.” She nodded toward the interior. “Want to share my first tour?”

For another smile, he’d hang around all day. “My pleasure.” He followed her into the waiting room, where a pass-through window opened into the receptionist’s office. “This building used to be a general store,” he said as she surveyed the space. “It had been empty for years but wasn’t too hard to clean up and renovate into what you needed. Mostly a matter of putting up walls and doors, dropping the ceiling and laying new vinyl over the concrete.”

“That all sounds pretty labor-intensive to me. I like the light gray walls and charcoal floor. Very soothing.” She went through the door patients would use into the back hallway, where there were two examining rooms, a laboratory and an office. “You’ve made a big effort.”

“We’re pretty excited to have a medical clinic. Driving to Kaycee or Casper isn’t an easy option for some folks.”

The doctor nodded as she peeked behind cabinet doors, opened drawers and examined the boxes of equipment stacked on the counter. “I grew up in a small town, with no local doctor and a mother who had health issues. Getting to and from her appointments could take up most of a day. And as a doctor, I’ve experienced firsthand how beneficial it is for patients in an isolated community to have accessible health care. Problems can be handled relatively easily in the office rather than exacerbated by patients’ reluctance to make a long drive, especially the elderly. It’s one of the issues I specifically want to address in my career.”

Talk about commitment! Garrett thought she might be too good to be true. “I’m glad to hear that. We have our share of older folks in Bisons Creek.” He followed her down the hallway. “I understand your training is in family medicine?”

“At the University of Washington, in Seattle. I’ve also worked in small towns in Idaho and Montana.” She stood at the door to the office. “But never with an office this nice. There’s even a desk and an armchair and carpet, as if this were a real doctor’s study. Next I’ll be thinking I’m a real doctor.”

“That’s what we’re hoping anyway.”

“I do have certificates,” she said, grinning at him. “I can fake it pretty well.”

“I won’t tell.” He returned the grin with one of his own. Her bright blue gaze held his and there was a second when he could have sworn he felt the click of a connection between them.

Then she looked away and gestured at a cluster of boxes on the floor. “I’m glad my professional books arrived. I didn’t have room for everything in the car. I’ll have to buy some bookcases to put them on.”

“Having carried them in here, I can say you’d better get heavy-duty shelves. Each of those boxes weighs a ton.”

“And they cost a fortune to mail. I hope I don’t have to ship them again for a long, long time.”

“I like the sound of that. You’re welcome for as long as you want to stay.”

“Thanks.” She crossed the hall to the lab area. The equipment she’d ordered was already in place. “Functional and efficient—just what I asked for. And there’s a room set aside for the X-ray machine, right? I’m hoping that will be my first big purchase.”

“Right here.” Garrett opened the door to show her the windowless space. “We built it to the dimensions you gave us.”

Eyes shining, she spread her arms wide. “Everything I could ask for. You’ve done a terrific job.”

He held up a hand in protest. “I can’t take too much credit. The whole town worked together on raising funds to restore the building.”

“But you must be the town carpenter, right?”

“Um, no. Kimble Construction did most of the real work. I’m the minister at Bisons Creek Church. My brother built the sign and I said I’d hang it.”

“Oh.” Her glow of excitement seemed to dim. “Well...thank you for all your help.” She walked away, toward the front of the clinic. “I’ll let you get on with your day. I’m sure you have things to do.”

Following, Garrett felt dismissed. “We do have a friend in common, though. Caroline Donnelly, who recommended you for the job, is my brother Ford’s fiancée.”

In the waiting room, she faced him again. “You’re one of the Marshall brothers. Now I see.” She thawed slightly. “Caroline has talked a lot about all of you in her emails this summer. I understand you have a camp on your ranch for some of her at-risk kids.”

“We do. And I should be getting back to them right now. I just wanted to be sure you had a sign to welcome you to town.”

“I appreciate the effort. Really.” But her pretty face was empty of expression. The contagious enthusiasm of a few minutes before had vanished. She held the door open and actually waved him out. “Have a good one.”

“You, too.” Garrett found himself on the porch, the door firmly shut behind him. Staring at the panel, he couldn’t figure out what the heck had happened, why Rachel Vale’s attitude had changed so fast—from friendly and outgoing to almost hostile. He didn’t remember anything he’d said or done that accounted for the difference.

In fact, he’d been anticipating getting to know her better, maybe building up to the suggestion of a cup of coffee at the diner, or even some lunch. He’d been reflecting what a welcome addition to the Bisons Creek social scene she would be...

Funny how the tone of the day could change so fast.

After replacing his hammer and the package of nails in his toolbox, Garrett climbed behind the wheel of his truck, intending to head toward the Circle M Ranch, where he and his brothers lived and worked. But just as he put his hand on the key to start the engine, he heard a door slam. He glanced at the clinic to find Rachel Vale hurrying down the walk. She opened the back of her SUV and pulled out a large duffel bag, then came up to his truck.

She opened the rear passenger door. “I just got a call from Caroline. There’s some kind of emergency at your place.” After slinging the duffel into the backseat, she climbed in the front. “We need to get out there right away.”

“Welcome to Bisons Creek,” Garrett said, pulling out into street. “I can’t tell you how glad I am that you’re here.”

* * *

“DID CAROLINE SAY what happened?” Garrett Marshall asked.

“Only that one of the kids was very sick,” Rachel told him. “I didn’t get any other details.”

After a short, mostly silent drive out of town, they turned in underneath the iron arch of the Circle M Ranch. Though her mind was preoccupied with the situation waiting for her, Rachel could appreciate the landscape of rolling, grassy plains and the big blue sky stretching overhead.

“A beautiful setting,” she said. “You must be proud of your property.”

“Not so much proud as grateful.” He smiled as he glanced over. “We feel pretty lucky to be able to take care of this parcel of land.”

Even though he’d said he was a minister, he certainly looked the part of the traditional rancher—close-fitting jeans, a dark blue work shirt and the quintessential white Western hat. With medium brown hair in a conservative cut and those sharp blue eyes, he made a very attractive cowboy, for those who found the type appealing.

Telling herself she wasn’t one of them, Rachel turned her gaze back to the view outside. “Has your family lived on the Circle M for generations?”

“No, as a matter of fact. My brothers and I lost both our parents before I was twelve. My oldest brother, Wyatt, was hired on here by Henry MacPherson, the man who owned the Circle M at that time. Eventually Henry had us all move out from town to live with him. When he died, he left the ranch to us. The Marshall brothers are relatively new to the ranching business, all told.”

She saw buildings in the distance—a timber-sided house and a big red barn on the hill above it. “Mr. MacPherson must have thought very highly of you.”

“Well, Wyatt is a responsible and dedicated worker—Henry knew he’d do his best for the place. The rest of us help out as much as we can, given our other responsibilities. Especially this summer, because Wyatt got bucked off a horse and broke a couple of bones in his back, so he’s out of commission for the time being.”

“That’s too bad. I hope he’s taking good care of himself.”

They approached the sprawling, single-story house, where a group of teenagers had gathered on the porch, most of them staring at their phones. Garrett stopped the truck in front of the steps. Before he’d even shifted into park, Rachel swung out of her seat, pulled the duffel from the rear seat, then crossed to the door and knocked.

Dark-haired Caroline Donnelly opened the screen door. “Oh, Rachel, I’m so glad you’re here. And so glad I could call you.” Behind her was a blond man who looked enough like Garrett that he had to be one of his brothers. Handsome evidently ran in the Marshall family.

Rachel gave her friend a one-armed hug. “Me, too. What’s going on?”

Across the room, a young girl lay bonelessly on the sofa.

“We were doing rodeo practice on the bucking barrel. Lena said she wanted to ride and walked over...but then she just sort of staggered and fell down. We carried her in and called an ambulance. And you.”

“Smart thinking.” Rachel knelt by the sofa. One deep breath of the fruity aroma surrounding the patient gave her all the information she needed. “Did she say anything?” From the front pocket of the duffel, she pulled out a glucometer to test Lena’s blood glucose level.

“She was acting kinda crazy this morning.” A tanned, black-haired boy sat in a recliner nearby. “I said she shouldn’t ride, but she wouldn’t listen.” His dark eyes were wide with fear. “Is she okay?”

Caroline came over and put a hand on his shoulder. “We’ve got help now, Justino. Dr. Vale will know what to do.”

“Did she eat breakfast?” Rachel asked. The blood-sugar result was high. And her blood pressure was low.

Justino shook his head. “She’s been sick for a couple of days. Throwing up and stuff.”

“Why didn’t she say something?” Garrett asked. “Why didn’t you?”

Rachel cut in. “She’s quite slender. Has she always been thin?”

“Yeah. But she said her jeans are getting loose, even though she’s been hungry a lot.”

“And thirsty?” Rachel asked.

“Oh, yeah. She drinks all the time.”

Lena fluttered her eyelashes and moved her head slightly.

“There you are,” Rachel said. “Hi, Lena, I’m Dr. Vale. How are you?”

“So thirsty,” Lena whispered without opening her eyes. “So tired.”

Turning again to her bag, Rachel began pulling out materials—an IV bag of saline and tubing, a syringe and a bottle of insulin. “Raise her legs,” she ordered over her shoulder. “Above her heart.”

While the others bustled around to help her, she handed the IV bag to Justino. “Hold this up high.” After inserting the needle into Lena’s arm, Rachel attached the tubing and adjusted the flow. Then she drew up ten units of insulin and injected it into the IV. “You’ll start to feel better soon,” she told the girl. Lena didn’t answer.

“That’s all I can do,” she said, getting to her feet. “She’s got to get to the hospital. How long ago did you call the ambulance?”

“They should be here any minute,” Caroline said. “What’s wrong? Why did she collapse?”

“She’s dehydrated and her blood glucose is very high. With fluids and insulin, though, she’ll start to improve.”

“Thank God,” Garrett said. “And thank you.” He glanced around the room. “These are my brothers, by the way. Ford’s the blond in the green shirt and Wyatt’s the one wearing the back brace.”

Nods were exchanged and hands shaken, but Rachel quickly returned her attention to Lena, noting that her breathing had slowed and her blood pressure had come up slightly. Positive signs.

Finally, she heard the siren they’d been waiting for. “The ambulance is here, Lena. You’ll be in the hospital in just a few more minutes.”

The vehicle stopped in the drive outside, lights flashing. Two emergency medical technicians came across the porch.

Rachel met them at the door. “I’m Dr. Vale, and this is Lena Smith.” She stood out of the way as one of the EMTs knelt by the couch, stethoscope in hand. “She’s in ketoacidosis. I started fluids and gave her ten units of insulin.”

The EMT nodded. “Got it.” The two men proceeded with their standard routine and, in only a few moments, had taken Lena out on a stretcher and put her into the ambulance.

“I want to come with her,” Justino said, following. “Please don’t make her go alone.”

The second EMT shook his head. “Not allowed. Sorry, son.”

The boy staggered, as if he’d been shoved.

Garrett put a hand on his thin shoulder. “You can come with me, Justino. I’ll follow the ambulance. Ford, could you call Lena’s dad to let him know what’s going on? Dr. Vale, I assume you want to come along, as well?” He ushered Rachel toward his truck.

“To begin with anyway. If Lena is part of this community, then I will be overseeing her care to some extent.” He opened the back door for her to stow the duffel on the bench, then held the front door so she could get in.

Once in the driver’s seat, he fastened his own belt and started the engine. “So today isn’t a onetime emergency?”

“I’m afraid not.” Rachel blew out a deep breath. “From all indications, this is a life-changing event.”

“What do you mean?”

“Lena will be under a doctor’s care for the rest of her life. She has juvenile-onset diabetes.”

* * *

THE TRUCK TOOK a sudden leap forward, then slowed as Garrett relaxed his foot. “She’ll be taking insulin shots?” He glanced at Justino in the rearview mirror. The teen was staring out the side window, lost in his own thoughts.

Rachel nodded. “Unless researchers find a cure. They’re always working on it.”

The prospect daunted him. “That’s a real challenge for a young girl.”

“The adults around her will have to help her cope. Are her parents going to be cooperative?”

“Her mother died last year. Since then, her dad has expected Lena to take care of her younger brothers and the house, as well as doing her schoolwork. She’s at the ranch because she’s been picked up for shoplifting several times in Buffalo and Kaycee and even Casper. She was cutting school with some of the older girls who can drive, and they’d spend the day out of town, getting into trouble. Caroline chose her for the camp, hoping it would turn her around so she could focus more on long-term goals.”

“Well, now she has the long-term goal of staying healthy to worry about.”

“I’ll pray for her to develop the strength she needs.”

“I’m sure that will help.” There was no mistaking the sarcasm in her voice.

He sent her a puzzled look. “Why do you say it like that?”

She blew out a breath. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to insult you.”

“I’m not insulted. But I want to understand your reaction. You don’t believe prayer can change events?”

“It might change the person who prays, because I believe in the power of the mind to affect behavior. But otherwise...no. Your prayer won’t call down some unseen power to help Lena deal with her diabetes.”

“You don’t believe in God?”

She didn’t answer for a minute. “I grew up going to church,” she said finally. “I can’t dismiss the possibility of a universal power. But as I observe life on this planet, I don’t detect much evidence of any kind of divine intervention. Good or bad, what happens, happens.”

There was silence as he drove the truck onto the highway exit ramp. “I’d be interested in talking more with you about that,” Garrett said, once they’d merged into traffic. “Meanwhile, we’ll have to work with Lena for the rest of the summer and get her started on the road to managing her condition.”

The doctor shook her head. “A summer ranch camp is probably not the best place for her to do that.”

Her opposition surprised him, but now wasn’t the time for a debate. “We’ll figure that out once she’s better.”

At the hospital, they pulled into the ER parking lot and went to the registration desk. Garrett showed the paperwork that granted him treatment permission, and they were allowed to join Lena in her cubicle. Justino went to the side of the bed and took hold of the girl’s free hand.

“That’s what you need,” Rachel said, nodding at the bag of fluid hanging near Lena’s head. “You’ll feel better soon.”

Lena rolled her head on the pillow. “I want to go back. To the ranch.”

Garrett faced her from the end of the bed. “We’ll take you as soon as the doctors say it’s okay,” he said.

“Lying around being sick at camp is no fun.”

People wearing scrubs came and went, asking the girl questions and drawing blood for tests. A nurse brought some food and urged Lena to eat a little. Finally, a man wearing a white coat over his scrubs entered the cubicle, a medical chart held in one hand.

He nodded at Garrett but then shifted his attention to Rachel. “Dr. Vale? I’m Brad Stevens, from the medicine service. I understand you’re the new doc down in Bisons Creek.”

She gave him one of those bright smiles. “I just pulled in to town today.”

“And ended up at work. That’s the way it goes, doesn’t it? Good call on the diagnosis.” Then he moved forward to stand beside the bed. “Hi, Lena. I’m Dr. Stevens. We’ve run some tests and I have some news.”

Lena opened her eyes to focus on his face. “What’s wrong?”

“You’ve haven’t been well for a few days, have you?” Lena shook her head. “Well, that’s because your blood glucose is very high.”

“I don’t understand.”

“Your cells use the glucose, or sugar, in the food you eat to produce energy and to function normally. There’s a chemical in your body called insulin, made by the pancreas, which helps release glucose into the cells so it can be used. But sometimes there’s not enough insulin. The glucose doesn’t get into the cells and instead stays in your blood. Your cells are starved and you become sick.”

“How do I get better?”

“We’re giving you insulin, and that will make a big difference.”

“Then I can leave?”

“Not right away. We want to watch you for a couple of days, ensure your system returns to a more normal state. And we have to talk about the changes you’ll need to make to manage your health. You see, Lena, your condition is known as diabetes. And you’ll have it for the rest of your life.”

Tears welled up in Lena’s big brown eyes and spilled over to run down her cheeks. “My mother had diabetes. She died.”

Rachel stepped up beside Dr. Stevens to put a hand on the blanket over Lena’s knee. “But that doesn’t have to happen, sweetie.” Her tone was gentle but reassuring. “You’re going to learn how to control your condition so you can be happy and healthy and live a long, wonderful life.”

“Can other people catch this diabetes from me?” Lena looked at Justino.

“Don’t worry, it’s not that kind of disease.” Dr. Stevens closed the chart. “First, we’re going to get you feeling better, then we’ll explain how you can keep yourself that way. I’ll talk with you again in a little while.” He left the cubicle.

A moment later, a nurse parted the curtains. “Lena’s father is here.”

Garrett led the way to the waiting room, where a Hispanic man in work clothes came toward them. “Lena is sick?” he said. “What’s wrong?”

“This is Dr. Vale,” Garrett told him. “She’s the new doctor in Bisons Creek and she can explain—”

“No, you are responsible for Lena,” Mr. Smith interrupted. “You explain.”

“Let’s sit down.” Garrett led the way to three chairs. “Lena has diabetes,” he said when they were seated. “Like your wife.”

Mr. Smith’s expression didn’t change. “She is going to die?”

“No,” Rachel said. “She can get treatment that will keep her alive for a long time. But she will have to take care of herself.”

He didn’t respond to her. “How did this happen?” he demanded, glaring at Garrett. “You are supposed to keep her safe.”

“This is not something anyone could predict or prevent.” Garrett braced his elbows on his knees and gripped his hands together. “But we can work with Lena as she learns to handle her condition.”

Mr. Smith nodded. “You will see that she knows what to do.”

“Yes, but you should also understand—”

The other man stood up. “No. You are responsible. I signed papers. You will make sure she gets well and can do what is necessary when she comes home. That is what must happen.”

Without allowing Garrett to utter another word, Lena’s dad stalked out of the waiting room toward the parking lot.

“He didn’t go in to visit her,” Rachel said in a hollow voice.

“No.” Garrett wiped a hand over his face. “And he treated you with disrespect. I’m sorry about that.”

She shrugged. “He doesn’t seem to value women very highly.”

“I guess not. It’s no wonder Lena was getting into trouble. She was crying out for attention.”

“A kid needs her parents at a time like this,” Rachel said fiercely. “Who’s going to look after this abandoned teenaged girl?”

Garrett swallowed hard. “You heard her father. He made me responsible.”

But the doctor shook her head. “Being a teenager with diabetes is tough—physically, mentally and emotionally. Lena has to have a stable support system to help her understand the healthy life she should try to live. You can’t possibly accomplish that on a ranch in the middle of a summer camp!”

Chapter Two

Spine straight, shoulders square, Garrett met her gaze with narrowed eyes. “I think you’re jumping to conclusions. With your help—”

“Even with my help,” Rachel said before he could finish, “it would be quite a challenge, especially when you have so many kids to deal with. These first few weeks are going to be confusing for Lena, but also very important. She’ll have to absorb a lot of information very quickly.”

“I’m sure there are resources available. We do get the internet out here in the wild, wild West.” His grin invited her to smile with him.

But she didn’t cooperate. “Lena will need appointments with a team of doctors and nurses who’ll supervise her treatment on a regular basis. That’s a significant time commitment.”

He shrugged. “There’s no other option. Without a family, who else will take care of her?”

“That’s for us to figure out.” Rachel got to her feet. “For the moment, let’s see how she’s doing.”

In the emergency room cubicle, Lena looked better—her eyes had brightened and a rosy color tinted her cheeks. “Where’s my dad?”

Garrett cleared his throat. “We talked, but he couldn’t stay.”

“He doesn’t handle it when other people are sick.” The girl shook her head. “He wouldn’t pay attention to my mother, either. And he wasn’t at the hospital when she passed.”

“Well, I’m here,” the minister said after a stunned pause. “Dr. Vale is here. And you’re getting better. That’s good enough for me.”

Later in the afternoon, Lena was moved to a bed in the acute care ward of the hospital. Dr. Stevens reappeared when she had settled in. “Sorry about all the tests,” he said. “We have to acquire as much information as possible so we can plan your treatment.” He brought forward a woman with short white-blond hair who’d accompanied him into the room. “This is Kim Kaiser. She’s a nurse who specializes in diabetes education. She’ll help you understand how to deal with diabetes.”

“You should sit in on this,” Rachel told Garrett. “If you’re responsible for her, you have to understand her medications.”

He made a wry face. “I’m suddenly wishing I’d paid more attention in biology class.”

Kim’s visit lasted about an hour. She explained the cause of diabetes, much as Dr. Stevens had done, but then proceeded to discuss the treatment, which would involve Lena taking enough insulin through the day to balance her blood sugar. Fortunately, she’d brought printed materials along, and Rachel loaned Garrett a pen so he could make notes on the pages.

“The doctors are still working out what kind of insulin you’ll need,” Kim told Lena. “So I’ll be back tomorrow and we can go over that. But are there any questions you want to ask now?”

Lena nodded. “Is that all I have to do, take pills?” She glanced at Justino. “That doesn’t seem so hard.”

“I’m sorry to say that insulin can’t be made into pills,” Kim said. “It’s a liquid that has to be injected under your skin. With a needle.”

“Shots?” Lena’s dark eyes went round with horror. “I have to take shots?”

Justino looked equally distressed. “She hates needles.”

Kim took the protests in stride. “Then maybe you will want to use an insulin pump, which is similar to the IV you have right now. With a pump, the needle goes in once and stays for several days.”

“For how long? How long do I have to do this?”

“For the rest of your life, Lena.” A gentle voice, but a harsh piece of news.

The girl shook her head. “I can’t. No way.”

With a glance at Rachel, Garrett took a deep breath and stepped over to the bed. “Try not to get upset, Lena.” He grabbed the end rail with both hands. “We’ll figure out how to make it all work for you. Maybe the pump is what you need. Or...or maybe you’ll have to get used to taking shots. But not right this minute. Right this minute all you have to do is relax.”

She glared at him through the tears running down her cheeks. “It isn’t fair!”

He shook his head. “No, it’s not. You shouldn’t have to deal with diabetes. Nobody should.” He shrugged. “But it’s happened. And in the long run you will be happiest and be able to enjoy your life if you learn to take care of yourself.”

Lena had broken into sobs. Justino put his arms around her but looked at Garrett. “I think she wants to be by herself.”

“We’ll step out for a few minutes.” He picked up his hat, held the door for Kim and Rachel, and then followed them into the hall. “I guess you have to expect an emotional reaction. It’s a pretty serious diagnosis.”

“Yes, it is.” Kim gave him a calm smile. “As her father—”

He cleared his throat. “I’m not her dad. I’m acting in his place.”

“Oh.” Her brows drew together as she turned to Rachel. “Are you her mother?”

“No, I’m the physician in Bisons Creek, where Lena lives.”

“I just assumed...” The nurse took a breath. “Well, if you are Lena’s guardians, you’ll have to help her overcome her resistance. Her very life depends on it.”

As Kim left them, Garrett rubbed the nape of his neck. “Acceptance is a hard enough lesson for an adult to learn, much less a teenager. This kind of situation poses a real test of faith.”

“Faith isn’t the solution here.” Rachel took a deep breath, trying to curb her impatience at his approach to the problem. “We have to convince her that medical science can’t be ignored. It’s a fact that she has diabetes, a fact that she has to take insulin or suffer serious consequences. Faith won’t change those facts. There’s no other reasonable choice.”

His brows drew together in a worried frown. “Easier said than done.”

“It is a daunting prospect.” His obvious concern softened her mood, and she put her hand on his upper arm. “But you’ll take it a day at a time. An hour at a time.”

The frown cleared and then he smiled at her. “That’s all we ever have to manage, in fact. This moment. Thanks for reminding me.”

For a moment, she returned his smile, surrendering to the attraction she’d been resisting all day.

Then she remembered his vocation and disconnected her gaze from his. “We should check on Lena. I hope she’s calmed down by now.”

In fact, the girl had fallen asleep, curled on her side toward Justino, who sat next to the bed, holding her hand. When Rachel and Garrett entered, he eased his fingers free and came across the room to face them.

“Tell me the truth,” he said, his young face set in grim lines. “Will Lena die from this diabetes?”

When Garrett glanced at her, Rachel tilted her head to indicate that he should field the question.

“The effects of untreated diabetes can be life threatening,” he told the boy. “What we have to do is convince Lena to take the medicine that will prevent those effects. It won’t be easy—at first anyway. But with care she can live to be a grandmother. Or a great-grandmother!”

Justino sighed. “She has always hated getting shots at the doctor. But somehow she will manage. She’s strong. And I’ll help her.”

Garrett gripped his shoulder. “I know you will. We’ll all be on Lena’s side, supporting her as she gets used to a new routine. And we have Dr. Vale here in town as an added bonus. She’ll be great backup.”

Justino gave Rachel one of his rare smiles. “Maybe you will be more than backup,” he told her. “Maybe you will be the mother Lena doesn’t have.”

* * *

AFTER CALLING THE ranch to give everyone a report on Lena’s condition, Garrett sat down beside Rachel in the waiting room. He leaned over and spoke in a low voice. “You look terrified.”

She stared straight ahead. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“When Justino said you could be the mother Lena lost. You went pale.”

“I was startled, that’s all. Teenagers are usually more suspicious of adults.”

“I think these two are grabbing at whatever resources they can reach. You’re going to be one of them.”

Her expression relaxed slightly. “I’m glad to be Lena’s doctor. But I can’t step in as her mother. There’s a reason doctors don’t treat their own family—it’s called objectivity.”

“Do you want kids some day?”

Now she frowned at him. “I don’t know. Do you?”

He nodded. “Definitely. Kids are fun.” Then he reconsidered. “But also scary. I guess I have to get past that somehow, to be useful to Lena.”

“That’s the point of remaining objective,” Rachel said. “When you’re taking care of somebody, you focus on the facts and what can be done, not the emotions involved. It’s called equanimity—staying calm in the midst of a high-pressure situation. As one of my teachers suggested, ‘First, take your own pulse.’”

“So that’s how you doctors manage. Must take lots of practice.”

“Internship and residency are all about equanimity. The more cases you see, the better your control.”

Garrett cocked his head. “And you like being in control.”

“Are we still talking about medicine?”

He grinned. “That’s up to you.”

“Well, then, I admit I’m pretty much a control freak, professionally and personally. Life runs smoother that way.”

“You’ve never encountered circumstances you couldn’t control?”

“Of course I have,” she said, her tone sharp. Then she drew a deep breath. “Everybody does,” she said more calmly.

“That’s good. For a minute there, I thought you were perfect.” When she laughed, he nodded. “There you go. I knew you’d have a great laugh.”

Her lips parted in surprise, and her cheeks flushed. He wondered if he might get a flirtatious comeback.

But in the next moment, she stood up abruptly. “I’m going to stretch my legs. I’ll be back in a few minutes.”

Before Garrett could say another word, she’d hurried out the door.

* * *

BETWEEN A TRIP to the restroom and a walk around the entire hospital, Rachel managed to waste half an hour she might have otherwise spent sitting with Garrett Marshall. Flirting with Garrett Marshall.

Not that flirting was a skill she’d had much practice with—medical school and training hadn’t left a lot of time for romance.

But Garrett wasn’t someone she wanted to think of in a romantic context anyway. She wasn’t going to fall for the cowboy type, no matter how ruggedly handsome he might be. Of course, Garrett was more than a cowboy. He was also a minister.

And that was the real issue between them, one that couldn’t be resolved with any amount of flirting or getting better acquainted. As a pastor, Garrett Marshall counted on the effectiveness of prayer and the possibility of miracles. He led a church—a congregation of people who shared his convictions.

But during her mother’s illness, Rachel had witnessed the damage such groups and their beliefs could do. In the wrong hands, religion became a tool for deception and greed. If it weren’t for her unquestioning faith in a corrupt con man, Sarah Vale might still be alive. While Rachel didn’t question the right of others to their devotion, she certainly didn’t intend to join them.

By the time she returned to the waiting room, Lena had awakened. She was calm, though Rachel saw the fear of an uncertain future in her eyes. When her dinner arrived, she ate a few bites, which was a good sign. After a night on insulin, she would probably wake in the morning ready to finish her entire breakfast and more. Rachel said as much to Garrett on their way back to Bisons Creek.

“I’m glad to hear her appetite will improve,” Garrett said. “She’s always been slender, but I didn’t realize until today that she was losing weight. I should have noticed.”

“You wouldn’t necessarily recognize the signs,” Rachel assured him. “Unless something brought it to your attention.”

“I hate leaving Lena in the hospital alone,” Justino said from the backseat. “She looked so scared.”

Garrett blew out a breath. “I know. But she’s got the television for a diversion. She’ll probably fall asleep pretty fast.”

“Can we go see her early in the morning?”

“We’ll leave after breakfast.”

Though Rachel didn’t have her bearings yet about locations in and around Bisons Creek, she was surprised when Garrett turned onto the Circle M Ranch drive before taking her to the clinic. He stopped the truck at the house to let Justino out.

“Miss Caroline will have saved you some dinner,” he told the boy. “Try to take it easy tonight and not worry too much. Lena’s being well cared for and she’s getting better.”

“I hope so.”

“He doesn’t sound convinced.” Garrett drove back toward the ranch entrance. “I guess I can’t blame him.”

“He would have stayed with her all night if you had let him,” Rachel said. “They’re very close for such a young couple.” She paused for a moment. “Did you want to talk to me about something? You could have dropped me off first.”

He shrugged one shoulder. “It occurred to me that neither of us has had lunch or dinner. I thought maybe you’d be interested in getting something to eat.”

“Oh.” The suggestion should have been simple enough, except for the combination of excitement and reluctance ambushing her brain. Garrett Marshall was way too appealing for her to spend a lot of time with. The last thing she wanted to do was get closer to him.

“Is that a yes or a no?”

Still, she was hungry. “Um, okay. Sure. Food sounds like a good idea.”

“Great. We’ve got a diner here in town—the only restaurant, actually—where the cooking is really excellent. You might as well get familiar with it on your first day here.”

“It is still my first day, isn’t it?” She sighed. “I haven’t even unpacked the car. Or gone to my apartment. That’s the way medicine is sometimes.”

“We appreciate your being here for what was clearly an emergency.” He pulled the truck into a parking space beside a building with the sign Kate’s Diner. Then he looked over in the dim light and grinned. “The least I can do is buy you dinner on your first night in town.”

Alarms went off in Rachel’s head—he made it sound way too much like a date. But she could hardly retreat at this point. Maybe she could talk him into splitting the check.

Garrett opened the door for her, a courtesy that upped her discomfort level. Then he pulled out a chair at the table and invited her to sit. Short of staging a fight, there wasn’t much she could do other than take the seat he offered.

She met his gaze directly as he sat down across the table. “This isn’t a date.”

His eyebrows rose. “Not technically. No.”

That response didn’t reassure her. “Not even remotely.”

He folded his arms on the table. “Would it be such a bad idea?”

“We aren’t a couple. Aren’t going to be a couple.”

“That’s a pretty sweeping prediction. We only met this morning. Do you dislike me so much already?”

She had to tell the truth. “No, of course not. But the two of us are incompatible.”

“I disagree. I think we’ve had a good day together.”

A pretty, brown-haired woman came to their table. “Hey, Garrett. Long time no see.”

“Hi, Terri. Yeah, we’ve been pretty busy out on the ranch with the kids plus the regular chores. Let me introduce you to the newest citizen in town—this is Dr. Rachel Vale. She’ll be operating the Bisons Creek Medical Clinic.”

Terri’s face brightened. “I heard we were getting a doctor. Welcome! It will be so great to be able to visit a clinic in town when one of the kids has an ear infection instead of driving half an hour just to get a prescription.”

Rachel smiled. “I’m glad to be here. I look forward to helping you out when you need medical advice.”

“I’ll be sure to call. But for right now, what can I get you two to drink?”

“Water,” she and Garrett both said at the same time.

“Got it.” Terri scribbled on her notepad. “We still have some of the special available, which is meat loaf with mashed potatoes and gravy and Kate’s slow-cooked green beans. I’ll be back in a minute to take your orders.”

“So,” Garrett said when the server had left, “you were going to tell me why we’re incompatible.”

“We have different worldviews.” Rachel clasped her hands on the table. “As a minister, you operate on the assumption that faith will make things right. But as a doctor, I use science and facts to deal with the world.”

Terri reappeared with a glass of water for each of them. “And what will you have to eat?”

Once they both ordered the meat loaf, Rachel resumed her explanation. “People with such opposite perspectives can’t find common ground for a relationship.”

Laughter sparked in his blue eyes. “Are you hoping to persuade me or yourself?”

She glared at him. “You’re awfully sure I’m attracted to you, aren’t you?”

“I wasn’t, till you started trying to convince me we can’t go on a simple date.”

“There’s nothing simple about dating.”

“So you’ve had some bad experiences?”

“Hasn’t everybody had a bad date?”

“Sure. A few years ago, I went out with a woman who brought her grandmother along with us to dinner.”

Rachel had to laugh. “You’re kidding, right?”

“At first, I figured her grandmother just wanted to check me out. But when Nana showed up for the second go-round, I decided I’d had enough of the two-for-one program.”

“I’m not surprised.”

“Especially since Nana monopolized every conversation with details of her surgical adventures.”

“Oh, no.”

“Can you top that?”

“I don’t think so. Most of my bad dates were with guys who thought buying dinner entitled them to play doctor afterward.”

“Rude.” He waited while Terri set their plates down and left again. “I promise to keep my hands to myself.” After a moment, he winked. “Tonight.”

Rachel frowned at him. “You’re a problem.”

They ate in silence for a few minutes, giving the delicious food the appreciation it deserved. “At least now I know where to come for a decent meal,” she said when her hunger had been eased. “I don’t have to depend on peanut-butter-and-jelly sandwiches.”

“You’re not a cook?”

“I can make a salad, boil pasta or bake a potato in the microwave. Being a doctor hasn’t offered much opportunity to develop complex cooking skills.”

“So what do you do on your days off?”

“There haven’t been many of those. But I usually go for a run if I’ve got an hour of daylight. And I like to read.”

Garrett grinned at her. “See, we do have something in common. I like to read, too. What do you read?”

“Not religious texts.”

“We were talking about free time. And you’re determined to pigeonhole me, aren’t you?”

She pushed her empty plate away. “I’m a doctor. That role defines my whole life. You’re a minister. Wouldn’t you say the same?”

“But you’re also a runner and a reader. And probably a few other things I’ve yet to discover. I’m a minister, yes, but I also work on a ranch. I rode bucking broncs in the rodeo. I volunteer with at-risk kids. I’m a brother and soon to be a brother-in-law to a friend of yours. Do you have family?”

Rachel swallowed hard. “No.”

He studied her for a moment, his eyes narrowed. “You lost somebody recently.”

She shook her head. “Not so recent. My mom died two years ago.”

“I’m sorry.” His voice was gentle. “You still miss her.”

Just like that, tears stung her eyes. For something to do, Rachel picked up her glass and took a long swallow of water. Blinking hard, she said, “Sorry. I must be tired.”

“No problem. Losing a parent is tough. If you ever want to talk about it, I’ll be glad to listen.”

“That’s okay.” She sent him a forced smile. “I’m fine.”

“Dessert?” Terri asked, appearing suddenly beside them. “We’ve got fresh lemon meringue pie.”

The idea of so much sugar after a day spent dealing with diabetes didn’t appeal to Rachel. “Just some coffee, please.”

“Me, too,” Garrett said. “Then I’ll help you get your car unloaded.”

“No, please,” Rachel started. “I can manage—”

“But it will go faster with two people working at it.” He winked again. “You can’t get rid of me. You might as well give in.”

“Then you can let me take care of dinner.” When Terri put the check on the table, Rachel managed to get her fingers on it first. “So there.”

He raised his hands in a gesture of surrender. “I recognize when resistance is futile. But I will get even.”

Darkness had fallen before they arrived at the clinic. Rachel stared through the truck window at the building she’d visited only briefly this morning. “Seems like days ago I arrived.” She blew out a deep breath and turned to Garrett. “You should go home.”

“Soon. You don’t even know where your apartment is, do you?”

“Sure I do. Evans Street.”

“How do you get there from here?”

“Caroline sent me a map...”

“Just get in your vehicle and let me lead the way. You can worry about maps tomorrow.”

Suddenly too tired to protest, Rachel did as she was instructed. In five minutes, they pulled up at the curb in front of an older two-story house with a wraparound porch.

Garrett came to her window. “This is it. You’ve got Caroline for an upstairs neighbor, though she’s not here much this summer. Luckily, the first-floor tenant moved out just at the right moment to give you a home.”

“It seems to be a nice place.” She pulled the key she’d been sent out of her purse. “So far, so good.”

The interior was cozy, filled with secondhand furniture that appeared comfortable, if a little dated and dusty. The kitchen was bigger than Rachel would need, the bathroom smaller than she would have preferred. “This will work for me,” she said as she and Garrett approached her car. “Compared to the places I lived during med school, it’s a palace.”

He pulled a couple of suitcases out of the back of the SUV. “We make sacrifices when we really want something, don’t we?”

She didn’t answer because it disturbed her that he understood what she’d been through without having to be told. He was altogether too easy to talk to, too perceptive and too easygoing. It would be better if he got angry or at least annoyed when she resisted him. Instead, he just smiled.

In a few short minutes, all the belongings she’d labored to fit into her vehicle were set in convenient places around her new apartment. Garrett put the last box of books on the coffee table and straightened. “Do you have more stuff coming?”

“No, this is it. I got rid of a lot of things before I left Seattle. I wanted to start new here.”

“An admirable plan.” He put his hands in his pockets. “I should leave and let you settle in. Thanks again for helping out with Lena today—it made a big difference to have a doctor available to deal with this crisis. You’re going to be a real benefit to this community.”

“I’m glad I could help.” She followed him as he walked to the door. “Thank you for helping carry all this inside. It would have taken me a lot longer. And I’m pretty tired.”

“My pleasure.” He faced her at the door. “Justino and I will be heading to the hospital in the morning. Can I pick you up?”

“I’m meeting with my new nurse early tomorrow,” she said, determined to set some limits. “But I’ll check on Lena as soon as possible. I’m sure the doctors on staff have her condition under control. I’ve applied for privileges at the hospital, but I’m not currently Lena’s doctor. And—” she gave him a pointed look “—I’m not her family.”

“Of course. It’s just been such a relief to have someone around who really understands what’s happening.” His serious blue gaze captured hers. “Your support meant a lot to me today.”

The hall light was dim, and they stared at each other in the shadows. The moment seemed more intimate than it should, more important.

“Good night, Rachel Vale,” he said finally, his voice low.

“Good night, Garrett Marshall.” She wanted to break the connection between them but couldn’t quite seem to do it.

Then he bent forward and kissed her on the cheek. The press of his lips burned like a brand. “Sleep well.” His boot heels thudded on the porch floor as he walked quickly away.

Rachel didn’t watch him drive off. That would be foolish and romantic, neither of which she intended to be. She was practical and logical, she told herself as she went into the bedroom, rational and pragmatic.

Rummaging through her overnight bag for pajamas and a toothbrush, she assured herself that there wasn’t a mark on her cheek from that kiss, and proved it when she went into the bathroom and turned on the light over the sink.

But she could still feel his lips on her cheek when she put her head on the pillow and tried to fall asleep.

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